The Place We Call Home
by ArdenXIII
Summary: Lupe joined the Assassins by recommendation of his uncle in order to protect himself and make something of his lowly existence. He wanted to find his home, the place where he belonged, but even among the Italian Assassins home was shrouded from his sight. At the expense of his friendship with Ezio he is willing detach himself and search for "Home" alone.
1. Prologue

Lupe,

Forgive me. Forgive an old man who that was everything to you save what you truly needed as an innocent and curious young man. I was so wrapped in my own passions and drives that I neglected my duties as your mentor. You are so insightful, so free, so firmly set in your resolve that an Old fool like me would grow envious.. As a matter of fact, I do. When your uncle delivered you to me those many years ago, it was easy for me to take you in. If anything, you were like a little brother to me if not like the son I never had, or ever thought I wanted.

You always had a heart to travel, to do things differently; to see new places, meet new people, to grow in your own knowledge of the world outside of the creed. When you get this, I am not for certain if the flame of my life will still be flickering, for even now I feel my time is short. But I know that what you are doing wherever you are -where ever that may be- it will surly reflect the greatness you have within you.

Though I do ask for your forgiveness, I do not expect it. All I ask is that you never lose your light, never lose who you are. Stay true to yourself and to remember that boy I still remember from all those years ago. If not for a dying old man, for the brotherhood.

Wherever you may be, I hope you find your way back home with what it was you were looking for.

Sincerely your Mentor and Friend,

Ezio Auditore

Farewell

I scanned that aged piece of parchment again and again, just as I had when I first found it on my doorstep twenty years ago. That word kept blaring in my head like a chorus of trumpets; "home," "home," "home!" The old man wrote this to me when I had been around the Old world searching for the meaning of that word and right then it hit me what home was. But by the time I reached Florence, he had already been laid to rest.

It was just like him to leave me when I finally figured something profound. Even in my current age, his words and teachings rang on my memory. The years I spent walking, my feet ached from the remembrance. The blood I had spilled, my wrist twitched from the muscle memory. The riddles and languages I learned, the trials I put myself through to prove my worth-my temples began to throb and I quickly placed my weary and seasoned fingers to them, applying pressure to stop the pain. Age is but a number after all.

I glanced back at the parchment again. My eyes fixed on the name at the top, Lupe, my name. That wasn't my name, yet it was. The whole order, from Hispania to Japan knew me as Lupe, the Night-Stalker, Apprentice to the Mentor, Ezio Auditore, The Pilgrim Assassin. But it was not my name. I didn't even remember my name, my birth name. But Lupe was my name to all my brothers and sisters, whether I liked it or not.

I didn't hate my name, Lupe, that is. My uncle gave it to me when he gave me over to Ezio and it stuck. I never had a name before that. No one names the son of a holy man and a whore, no one wants to acknowledge such vulgarity. My birth name is nothing but ash in the road of my past. Where its remains lay, I knew not, nor cared to know.

I got up from my large chair grasping my wooden cane in my right hand as I walked around my dimly lit study. A longer room with windows on either side flanked by bookshelves closer to the door on the far end, but closer to the finely crafted wooden desk stood six suits of armor, each one of them bearing the iconic symbol of the creed on the sash and the hood drawn over the face. Six suits of armor from the six branches of the creed I visited. I passed by each suit not glancing at any of them, I knew the order by heart.

As I reached the door I clasped the brass handle and looked back. My gaze fell upon one last suit of armor standing behind my chair. The suit that started it all for me. An assortment of clothing I had picked up from all around Italy, the hood drawn over the face, the ebony and scarlet cape that proudly bore the symbol of the creed slung asymmetrically over the shoulders, and the dark bushel of wolf's fur I had added to adorn the top of the armor. Ezio said it made me look intimidating.

I smiled at the memory once again feeling a hot tear seep from my eyes lids. I blinked my eyes to banish it and turned the knob. I am old now, but the years I spent traveling the world made me the last person to ever forget anything, and yet; I couldn't remember anything prior the day before it all began to change.

Age is but a number.


	2. Waking Up

I couldn't remember anything prior the day before the day it began to change. My eyes opened, blurry from the sun and head throbbing, I could feel a slight trickle of blood rolling down my forehead. I tried to bring my hand up to wipe it, but no sooner had I budged did I realize my hands were bound behind my back.

Fantastic, I thought to myself wiggling my hands attempting to get free. My dark hair fell like a matted greasy mess on the wooden floor. It was at that moment that the wooden floor sudden smacked me in the cheek. In my dazed state, more pieces began to come together. I could hear the clomping of horses and the roll of wheels over sturdy dirt and dust.

I rolled around and saw two men, dressed in sharp looking combat uniforms, holding onto the top of the rattling carriage. One had his head stuck to the front shouting something presumably to the driver. The other looked about as poor as I felt.

It must have been the whites of my eyes that tipped him off, because the moment we made eye contact, the mean looking one shouted something and kicked me straight in the gut. His boot was heavy and at least cracked something inside of me, other than my pride.

"He's awake," I heard one say.

"It's fine, he's bound up nice and tight," Said the other.

A third voice said, "He won't give you any trouble, just hold him there till we get to Napoli."

Napoli? Since when was I on a seeming one way ticket to Napoli? I couldn't remember, but the notion didn't stick with me long. I felt something cold in my boot. My knife! Apparently they had forgotten to check the inside of my boots. Oh well, their loss.

I took a quick glance up at my captors and found they were preoccupied, babbling in some tongue that was clearly not Italian. I jerked and pumped my boot till I could feel the end of the hilt between my fingers. I slid out the blade and sawed vigorously as my binding.

The moment I felt the ropes fall off, I held my arms and looked up at the soldiers with a vicious stare. Everything to me began to slow down. Both of them were distracted, they basically were as I first found them. With my knife poised, I rose and watched as the mean one looked up at me and his face turned from anger to terror as I plunged my blade into his throat. Pace returned to normal.

The gawk of my first kill alerted the other as he drew his head back in, but as I wrenched my blade from my first quarry, the edge swept across the next with a clean cut. They dropped convulsing on the wooden carriage floor. I stood as if I had done this before and in a circular motion, derived from my first, I drove my knife through the curtain at the front of the cart. I grinned with satisfaction as I felt the snapping of a man's spinal column against the blunt of my blade.

I withdrew and took a hop back. There was still another shadow on the other side of the curtain. The soldier pulled back the drape, clutching the reigns with one hand, his sword and the blood-stained tapestry in the other. I could tell he was frantic at the events that had just transpired in his cart.

With a quick look, I knew what my next move was. There were barrels in the front of the cart, along with some cannon fuse. If my suspicions were correct, things were about to get loud. I looked up again at the driver and saw he had taken a poor footing on his seat to attempt to ward me off. He could try.

I stepped the other way causing him to lunge a stab at me. I quickly evaded and cut off a piece of cannon fuse. The soldier recoiled and threw his sword across the wooden chamber. I ducked just in time, but the velocity of his swing caused the poor soul to snap his wrist on the nearest barrel. He cried in pain dropping his sword.

I slid back to the edge of the cart, knowing my timing had to be just right. The barrel top had been obscured from the soldier's miss-hack, but just a little black powder had settled on the top. The soldier and I shared one last glance before a lit the fuse off the wagon wall and tossed it at the powder.

The last thing I saw as I fell backwards out of the cart was the color of his face paling, and his trousers darkening. Then the cart went boom! The driver and the horses driving it were consumed in the flames as I hit the ground and rolled just out of the way of splintering wood. I curled up into a ball behind a formation of rocks and waited for it to all be over.

When I arose, a pillar of smoke from the burning wreckage rose into the afternoon sky. The sky looked so warm as the sun began to set on the west, ironically behind the smoke. The green of the countryside caught the hints of red and orange making it all come together like some painting I would have found in Venice. I remember thinking to myself, how sick of me.

I panted and slouched my shoulders standing, somewhat. It was more like a drunk trying to hold himself up, I was so exhausted. Exhausted and confused. Perhaps it was my adrenalin induced state, or maybe it was the smack to the face the cart had given me, but I didn't recognize any of my surroundings. I stumbled around trying to recognize something, but my eyes were still blurry.

"Hello?" I shouted to receive no answer. "Hello!" I shouted again for good measure only to receive similar compensation for my strain. I took another staggering turn o the area and finally resolved to head the way the cart had come from.

"O Fortuna! Bah!" I spat at the sky and trudged up a tiny incline and began to make my way down the road. I cursed and mumbled to myself as I walked with a precarious sway in my step. To any passerby, I swear I looked like a drunk.

The sun was hot, hotter on me than it actually was because my senses were still out of order. From the taste on my lips it was similar to some poison, clearly not one that could kill, but could knock out in a high enough dosage. Guess the immunity I had built up till now had served me well.

As I passed over the low rolling country side I began to notice just how vacant the road was. Not a single horse or cart had past my way since my escape. I couldn't have been on a back road, it was too groomed for that. The road was well worn.

I kept walking in a straight line, rather followed only one path as I walked. Over the crest of the next hill I spied a small little trading post town. Nothing but a collection of few homes and shacks. A small church sat elevated on a hill. The mountain cliffs framed the right side of the town, only a singular path led into the pass, but I had no intention of going that way. The left side was cut off by a moderately steep drop off leading to what looked like farmland. As I approached I noticed another peculiar thing; there was no one out and about roaming.

"Hello?" I called as I tromped through the town. "Hello? Is anyone here? Hello!"

There was nothing that answered me save the whistle of wind. It probably didn't help that I looked like a dirty and disheveled traveler. I must have looked at least slightly intimidating. I stumbled and threw myself around the intersection of the main road and the mountain path at least twice before finally moving on. No one was going to help me here.

I went on through the town, not looking back till it was well out of my sight. Where was I even going? It would have been nice to get picked up by some cart heading to some major city but I first had to know which city I was going to. Forli. Forli. That's what kept ringing in my head. My home was in Forli!

I looked around searching for some sort of sign or landmark possibly that I could recognize.I could barely remember Forli, what came over me that made me think I could recognize where on God's green earth I was, I have no idea.

Suddenly I heard clomping from behind me and a hearty voice call out to me, "Ey boy you lost out here?"

I looked and what greeted my eyes was a plump man dressed in earthy tones sitting atop a two-team drawn cart. His skin was toned from long hours of working in the sun. He had a jovial look on his face, a warm smile outlined by defined age lines. I looked on with what I could only characterize as a dumbfounded ex[ression.

"Where you going, son?" He asked again.

"That way direction," I said pointing down the road.

The old man laughed with a deep bellied tone. "I can tell. Well why don't I give you a lift? The nearest city is about ten miles down that way."

"What city is that?" I asked.

"Forli," he replied.

Without anpother moments notice I scampered around the horse team and climbed up into the cart taking to the seat beside him. "Strange coincidence, that's where I need to go. I just didn't know where it was."

"You lost?" the man said snapping the reins prompting the team to move on.

"More or less," I replied looking down at the passing road.

I resolved not to say anything the rest of the way and my kind cart driver respected that, for the most part. He went on and on about the weather or something. I recall him saying something about having two lovely daughters whose eyes made the sun jealous, they were so bright. To be honest, I really didn't care, but I nodded and gave an occasional sound of my input into the conversation.

I was more memorized by the feeling in my boot. My blade laid flat against my calf, still a little sticky from the remnants of blood. I felt a shiver run up my spine and the man's words were drowning out as I became lost in my own thoughts. I ran my fingers down the blade and back up as if seduced by its sleekness. I was a very disturbed individual to be lured to a blade.

"What's your name, son?" I heard the old man say suddenly coming out of my trance.

I looked up at him, peering through my thick hair. "What?" I asked.

"Don't you have a name?" he asked looking to me then back at the road.

Just as I was about to speak I saw the dull grey and wall-bridged towers of a city rising in the near distance. Rooftops and a steeple rose from above the walls as did the sturdy collumns of a fortress palace. Flags waved from atop tall spires on the towers and steeple drenched in red and gold.

I nodded towards it and the old man smiled when he saw what I had seen. "There it is, my boy."

I didn't have to hear him say it. I remembered it all. The collection of houses just outside the walls, some submerged in the tide to their doorsteps. The mash land that surrounded the city and the vast evergreen pine forest that encircled that. The green and brown of the water and mud as children ran through it and covered themselves in the sludge. From far off I could hear the bells and the relentless barking of an over paid town crier. It was as I had left it however long ago; Forli.

What a shit hole.


	3. Back in Town

I hopped off the old man's cart after thanking him and walked into the crowd of people that moved in and out of the city. I had a relatively slim figure so melding with the flow of this tide wasn't a struggle in the least. The primary courtyard was littered with stalls and vendors shouting and fighting with customers trying to maintain a business.

Ironically there were two fish stands next to each other, and clearly not a partnership. The two men manning their stalls bickered over whose fish was fresher while a poor old lady stood helplessly with her purse in her hands. As much as I would have liked to to have liberated her of her purse and the squabbling men of a few fish, I decided the arrangement of my bowls was comfortable as it was, and walked on.

The main avenue wasn't much different in mass of people. I had never seen so many people in Forli at one time before. It couldn't have been for some religious Mass. Forli wasn't up to par for such events. Nevertheless, the crowds made my homeward stroll all the more interesting.

I think by the time I had reached the square to sit under the church veranda, I had procured at least fifty coins and possibly a handkerchief. I disposed of it promptly for fear it may carry something I didn't want to contract. I was a very catious man. Who could blame me?

The money did not last me long. Despite my thieving skills, I found a respectable stall with a beautiful vendor and traded my coin for some much needed food. Unfortunately the food was all I could get, the beauty attending to the stall had a very menacing sir sitting on a bench behind her.

I found a quiet corner in the cubical round of the veranda and gorged myself with the sweet loaf and chuck of some red meat my pocket-lifting had got me.I felt like I sat there for hours starring up at the sky, watching the clouds, sneering at my jealousy.

"Oi, you're alive!" a voice cried out.

I looked to see a man running towards me with an astonished smile on his face. He seemed no older than myself, but his demeanor was clearly more optimistic than my own. His atire was that of any day-time traveler; worn trousers and shirt, a blet bound around his waist, and a tattered coat. His dark brown eyes were squinty in his pudgy face.

"Benvolio?" I questioned recognizing my friend.

"Eh so you do remember," he said to me. "After they knocked ya pretty good on th' 'ed I thought you'd a been a goner."

His accent took me completely off guard. I wasn't ready to process it all. "What?" I blurted out with hardly any hesitation.

"Ya don't remember the run-in wit' Culio's boys?" Benvolio asked looking at me concerned.

"I can barely remember how much your accent drives me nuts," I said dragging my free hand over my face. "Tuscana hick."

"Oh well, we'll talk about it later then," he said shrugging his shoulders. "Come on then. Your Uncle just got into town and is looking fer you. He seemed serious about somethin'."

"My Uncle?" I looked at him with no end to my confusion.

"They hit you harder than I thought didn't they?" he said helping me to my feet. "You sure you kin walk?"

"Yes I'm fine Benvolio, thanks for the concern," I said waving off his help.

"That's good," he said with a smile. "Follow me, it may be a buisy market day, but we still can't be too careful."

I followed Benvolio out into the crowd. His head swayed from pan to pan like an owl in the night. I assumed he was scoping for guards, but I couldn't see any for a distance. He led me to a nearby alley that was not so populated and together we wove our way through the back streets to avoid too much attention.

"Why are there so many people here in the city today? I never remember Folri being so dense for any reason."

"The Countess has returned from Roma, so the Duke invited the Venician and Florentine states to share in the celebration."

"What was she doing in Roma?" I asked.

"She was a prisoner o' war o' the Borgias," Benvolio replied halting before entering a busy street. "We'll speak further when we get to the guild building. Hang on."

I didn't ask any more questions. I didn't feel like prying any further. I just kept up with Benvolio as best I could while blending with the crowds. We caught a faster paced current and basically rode it up the street till we reached the north-western corner of the city where stood a cluster of buildings stacked on top of each other precariously against the wall.

Benvolio led me around to one side to a narrow hallway hidden from most eyes by the amount of shrubs and how narrow it is. A wooden door stood before us after about ten paces with a slide opening at the top. I started to remember.

Benvolio gave three knocks, hesitated then gave two more. The slide opened to a shadowed face and two glinting eyes. They stared at us inquisitively, but when his eyes locked on my face they lit up.

"Hey, you're alive!" a raspy voice exclaimed moving away from the door. Bolts could be heard being unlatched from within. Then the door swung open to reveal a middle-aged man with a chizled face and dark auburn hair cut short. He was a taller fellow with defined limbs covered in complementing hair. "We thought you were a goner."

"That is what I hear," I replied with an odd smile.

"Well come on in, everyone is going to be so excited to see you are alive," the man said beckoning us inside.

Benvolio and I stepped in and waited for him to close and lock the doors. There was a very small, dimly lit, hallway that led to a virtually empty room save a few crates stacked up around the room. In the back there was a table standing over a rug. The man moved the table and lifted the rug revealing a trap door.

"Well that isn't cliché," I said shaking my head.

"What do ya mean?" Benvolio asked looking at me as the door was opened.

"Never mind it," I said.

Benvolio shrugged and climbed down the latter whistling to himself. The doorman smiled at me and said something, but I can't remember on account of the sudden putrid smell that overtook my nostrils upon my descent. The trap door was shut above me and finally I came to the bottom of the ladder landing on soggy ground; the sewers.

I could barely contain my delight at this new and fantastic turn of events, even as Benvolio stood by the only light that poured into the rank chasm from a doorway. He held back a long drape that was meant to conceal the doorway from any unwanted eyes.

"Hurry up, da boys are waiting fer ya," he said waving his hands then looking inside. "Oi, boys! The kid's back!"

There was suddenly an uproar that was only thunderous because of the reverberations off the sewer walls. I barely made it to the door before I was swarmed with an array of faces and expressions. All of the men pulled me in as if a pack of hungry wolves, only their hunger was quenched by patting me on the back or shouting m=in my ear or some other form of welcome that I found distasteful.

The men were all dirty. I shouldn't talk though, I was pretty disheveled from my journey, but I just felt strange being touched by so many people, so many thieves. These were the Thieves of Forli, my family as of the past few years. After a few awkward seconds I smiled and laughed with them.

"Boy kid, we thought you were dead!"

"What happened after they took you?"

"Did they beat you pretty bad?"

"I'm alright, I'm alright, I swear," I said motioning for them to be quiet and let me speak. "I will tell the whole story tonight while we feast, but if some of you are impatient, you can go about twelve miles due west and you'll find their smoldering remains if you want to know it from their perspective."

The men broke out into a hearty laugh, clapping their hands and banging their fists and mugs on tables that littered the room. The Hideout was basically what would be a tavern on the surface. Bar tables and stools all around. Large barrels of drinks lining one wall with a formally stationed bar right beside. Pillars stood geometrically within the room to help hold up the ceiling. It was a homely place.

The men started to disapperate from my side to return to their drinks and games to pass the time. A small band, consisting of a violinist, percussionist, and flutist, began to play a joyful tune that even I could tap my feet to. Benvolio went off to drink with his friends leaving me to stand there and revel in the company of my fellow thieves.

"So, what happened boy?" A man pressed me.

"Yes what happened?" another said flipping a crate up side down near the stage for me to stand on and orate.

"Give me a moments's rest, will you?" I said snatching a mug from a passerby. "I've been traveling all day."

"But the memory is fresh in your head," A young looking one said stepping up to me.

"I understand but I know it will be less of a treat if my mind is not well refreshed," I said gulping down a sizable measure of the fire-water only to spit it back up; I forgot how much I hated the taste.

"Oh tell us what happened will you?"

"Speech!"

"Speech!"

"Speech!"

"Speech!"

The whole room broke out into the chant banging their fists and feet where they could. My temples began to throb from the lack of water and the strain of the day. It was becoming unbareable as the noise only seemed to grow louder and louder.

"Yes, nephew," a calm and musical voice cut through the crowd. "Tell us what happened."

The chanting suddenly died and the room went deathly quiet. I recognized that voice. The accent, the suave tone, the calmness, it was unmistakable. I turned around to face the man who slew the noise. A middle aged man, his face hidden mostly by the hood drawn over his face. He was dressed in rather fine deep burgundy clothing, uncharacteristic of the rest of men in assembly. His cloak was the same color as his hood, the shoulder piece was an unusual pattern, but in all his atire fit his title.

My eyes were locked on him out of fear, astonishment, and respect. My uncle, the king of thieves; La Vulpe.


	4. Leaving So Soon

"How did you know where to find me, Uncle?" I asked my uncle as he paced behind a make-shift desk the thieves used for executive matters.

"It is my buisness to know everything about what is happening all over Italy nephew," he responded in that cool and musical tone he always had.

The room we stood in was about as dirty as the hall just beyond the door behind me. I stood in front of the desk sort of awkwardly because I really had no idea why my uncle was here, moreover looking for me. Crates and dank must covered a majority of the room giving it an unbearable stench. My uncle seemed unfazed; stuck-up prick.

Well in that case, I'm sure your visit doesn't go without purpose," I said wanting to get out of the stench.

La Vulpe chuckled to himself. "You are sharp nephew," he said. "I do have other reasons for being here."

"Your suspense is killing me," I said with a slightly annoyed tone.

La Vulpe reached under the deak and pulled out a dark hooded traveling cloak and underhanded it in my direction. My reaction speed was well enough to catch the cloak, but it unfolded into its full length due to my lack of grace I guess. I looked up at my uncle confused.

"Put that on, we leave at duck," He said.

"Leave?" I questioned. "To go where?"

"Roma," he replied walking past me and making for the door. "I have something for you to make something of your life above this line of work."

"Roma?" I stammered. "Why would I want to go to Roma? I just spent so much time trying to get back here!"

"Enough, nephew," his voice went cold and stifling for that split moment. I froze from fear and didn't move till I heard the door shut behind him.

I was left alone in the room clutching the cloak he threw at me. I looked around at the cracking walls, the dusty crates. Forli's thieves were the only people I'd ever know. This place was my home one could say. But as I continued to survey my surroundings, more and more I realized that I didn't have a home.

I was abandoned as a child when my mother left me with my Uncle; I was four at the time I do believe. La Vulpe had been there for me, but I was basically on my own. I was used to being alone, fending for myself. I was a lone-wolf and I was okay with that considering it seemed like that status was not going to change anytime soon.

Without another thought I threw the cloak around my shoulders and bound it across my left pectoral by a pair of leather straps. The cloak was basically a dark hooded poncho with a few tatters in the fabric. It fell to just above my knees, but my arms had full mobility. I think I was rather fond of that cloak.

As I left the room, there was no acknowledgment to my pace. All the thieves sat around laughing and carrying on as they had before I had arrived. I passed by them all silently, like a ghost, my cloak barely brushing their sides. I'm sure they must have thought it was a breeze or someone's revolting flatulence.

In any case I reached the door and clasped my hands around the knob reconciling my lonliness and self pity when something stopped me.

"Hey kid," a voice called to me from amidst the throng.

I turned and found all the attention was on me. Every man and woman in the place was looking at me with a mixture of expressions. I couldn't read them all, I didn't bother to, but there was something warm about all their eyes on me.

"Don't forget this," the thief said tossing my a straight dagger in it's sheath, my favorite knife.

I caught it and looked at it for a moment before glancing back up to see all the thieves standing with their right arms across their chests. Each of their expressions was graced by a smile. There were all sorts; grins, smirks, toothy, grimaces, toothless, it was almost innumerable. I nodded to them returning a grin and threw the hood up over my face.

They began to cheer when the door closed. I didn't know if it was because my leaving or something else, but at that point, I really didn't care all that much. I walked down the short hidden hallway to the exit and bushed the bush aside as I stepped through. The streets were beginning to empty at this time of night.

That night, I found my way to the square and looked at the shells of vendor shops scattered here and there. The last of them had to have left hours ago. There stood the church and its tall steeple in all its dull and crumbling splendor; at least the stain glass wasn't damaged. Despite all the wear and tear, the stain glass of the church was untouched.

I looked up to the peak of the steeple and was suddenly mezmorised by it. The moon light hit it at just the right angle that all the cobbles and plates of the roof reflected the light. I looked around the square and made sure there was no one on the streets. Of course there was no one on the streets.

I ran at the church and without hesitation climbed the wall to the roof using some off set stones to catch my feet. The climb was almost seamless, it felt great. I vaulted up onto the roof, but didn't stop there. There was a pigeon coop at the base of the steeple, but that only served as a boost for me.

I stopped when something caught my eye. Torches, very few of them lined the roofs; night patrol guards. I remember grinning and climbing up the steeple anyways. I worked my way around its old stone face dodging the sight of the guards as I went. I felt so alive!The steeple top was so close!

I pulled myself up onto its hieght and sat there starring up at the stars with a smile on my face. So many stars were out that night, the moon was full and brighter than any moon I had ever seen. I raised my hand out as if to touch it, but there was nothing that greeted my hand save the wind that gently rolled past.

I clasped the iron made cross atop the steeple and used it to stand and look out over the city. I could see it all; the burrows, the ship yards, the citadel, the guild house, all of it. In the moonlight Forli didn't look so bad. It looked peaceful, serene.

I wish I could have staid on top of that steeple to have watched the sun rise, but I knew La Vulpe was waiting at the southern gates. I looked down over the market and saw an ominous cart of hay stacked high near my position.

"Who the hell left that there?" I said to myself, but that was all the thought I gave it.

I took a breath and stepped to the ledge. I felt a little queasy from seeing just how high I was, but the feeling passed as I took another breath and closed my eyes. This was the beginning to my life, my new life. I had no idea what that new life would be, but I figured that it had to be better than not having one in the first place.

I leapt from the steeple and dove straight down. The wind was so fast and when I opened my eyes again I watched the ground speeding towards me, but I wasn't afraid. I curled my body just before impact and fell softly into the hay cart and laid there for a moment as the adrenelin rushed through my body.

After a long breath I kicked and threw myself out of the cart with a boisterous yelp of excitement. I ran through the columns of the church before running up an up turned cart and pulling myself onto the roof. I spotted three guards in my way; no problem.

I started my pace slow, or at least it felt slow to me; a strut, a jog, a run, a sprint! It all happened so fast. I came upon the first guard and without barely breaking my stride pushed his face into the side of an attic outer wall. He crumpled to the roof unconscious. The next didn't hear me coming, I wrapped my arms around his neck and with my momentum put him under in a matter of seconds.

"Hey, you!" I heard someone call. The last one heard me.

I didn't wait for him to react. I threw the second guard against the roof and charged the third, who had drawn his sword and was reaching for his horn to alert the other in the city. I was faster than he was and his throat felt it as my blade slid across and flipped to pierce his chest.

He dropped his sword and began to fall under his own wieght. I caught him and laid him down on the roof top running my fingers over his eyes to close them. I snatched his coin purse and his belt for that matter. The last thing I took from him was the swprd he dropped. A thin, long blade, good for parrying, a suitable tool for now at least.

I started my run again and leapt from the last roof to a crane that was set up atop a smithy, using it to swing down the ground. A roll to dismount and I wass standing before the gates. They sat open as few people passed through. Some gave me a glance at my dismount giving me odd looks.

"He could kill someone."

"What does he think he's doing?"

It was none of their concern. I passed by them, pilfering two or three coin purses as I went. The gate guards stood over in a clump not even watching the gates. I fixed my hood just in case and kept my pace off the path. The line of people greatly thinned out to nothing just passed the fork in the road.

"Over here," I heard a voice say.

La Vulpe sat atop an auburn horse behind a growth of bushes and a couple of trees. He held the riens of a jet black horse, all saddled and prepared in his right hand. His hood covered and shadowed his face, but I could still make out a smile in the darkness.

"Took you long enough," He said to me.

"Eh, I'm here now," I replied taking the riens from him and mounting up the horse. "To Roma now?"

He nodded. "I will explain what I can on the way," he said snapping the reins and trotting off.

"Of course you will, Uncle," I muttered under my breath snapping my reins to follow him.


	5. The Name

We traveled the full night and late into the afternoon of the next day before we stopped to rest. I honestly didn't think that Roma was that far away from Forli, but I have been wrong before. La Vulpe said he'd explain his intent on the way, but all I got was the same story over and over again.

"We are going to Roma and you are going to meet a friend of mine," he'd say to me.

"Who?" I'd ask.

"You will meet him when we get there," was always his reply.

I know my uncle is the leader of the Thieves Guild and the master of information, but I'd thought the least he could have done was give me some more of broader range of information on the situation. Again, I was wrong.

We stopped at a way point, a small rural town with one general store, a church, an inn, and a stable. The other buildings, I was told, were residential spaces. We sat on a bench enjoying a bite to eat for lunch -and I use the term enjoy very loosely.

The best part of that meal was the water to wash it all down. La Vulpe ate it without so much as batting his eye, but I could hardly stand the stale bread and scaps of some kind of meat. I wished I had gone and purchased something more eddible from the general store, but La Vulpe pulled me back into my seat and refused to let me go. Some times, I don't understand him at all -strike that- most of the time.

For a small rural town, there was a lot of traffic coming through. It could have been the fact that it was a main highway, but very few people actually stopped. Before long I heard the annoying voice of a town crier preaching his garbage to the passing people. They were here too? There guys were relentless!

"Come on," La Vulpe suddenly said to me tapping my leg. "We are leaving."

"Now?" I asked questioningly.

"Yes, now," La Vulpe said standing up and looking around the corner. "Let's go, before we are spotted."

"Spotted?" I asked. "By who?"

"Nephew, just get off your ass and let's go," he scolded me.

I got up and follwed him closely. I hadn't noticed it till now, but niether of us had removed our hoods. It was an average day, temperature wise, but it was still common practice to remove one's hood while in public. I raised my hand to take mine off, but La Vulpe suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled me into an alley.

"Nephew," he said with a smooth, but concerned tone. "Don't remove your hood until I say you can. It's not safe for you to reveal your face just yet."

"Wh-" I began to speak, but the look in my uncle's eyes said it clear enough. He didn't want any questions, nor should I question him at the moment.

I nodded and he let go of my arm and looked around the corner again. He motioned to me and we emerged melding into the crowd as we made our way to the stable. We moved through the crowd taking careful care not to disturb anyone, just like ghosts we moved through them. We weren't even noticed.

A troop of guards walked the opposite direction to us, forcing the crowd to part for their march. La Vulpe moved with the crowd, but the crowd kind of put me on the outside closest to them. The gurads and I passed by each other with not even a glance or eye contact. My cloak brushed against the one closest, but it was barely a sweep of the cloth. The guards marched on with nothing more.

I glanced back and watched them only long enough to see them turn a corner and vanish. Why was that so unnerving to me? I looked up at the rooftops, bu saw no guards. The buildings were only two stories tall at max, I could have seen a guard, or their shadow if there were one, but there were none.

I felt La Vulpe's hand grab the back of my cloak and pull me out of the crowd into the stabel. "You shouldn't get so distracted," he said to me pulling his horse and mine from the trough.

"I thought it was peculiar," I replied taking hold of my horse and stroaking its snout.

"How so?" La Vulpe replied looking at me.

A foot patrol, but no rooftop watch," I explained. "That's no occupation, but this town is so small. Why keep a foot patrol here at all?"

The Borgia have many assets, nephew," La Vulpe replied mounting his horse. "Simple towns like this can be vital. You see how much traffic flows through it's street."

"But it's hardly a market, even for a family like the Borgia," I said taking the reins of my horse and leading him out of the stable.

"As long as there is a banner with the Borgia family symbol upon it, there will always be their influence," La Vulpe explained quietly trotting down the road.

I mounted my horse and followed him. "Seems tyrannical," I said.

La Vulpe chuckled, "You have seen nothing yet."

As we passed the limits of the town, we picked up our pace and rode down the road as people now moved out of our way. We rode for another long while through some rolling hills, passing farm houses and villas, another small town and various road forks. We kept straight the whole way, straight down that windy road until we passed over the Rubicon River. That's when I first saw it.

The wall of Roma; so tall and massive it looked impenetrable. Over the wall I could see the seven hills and all the buildings that clumped together to crate the famous city of ledgend. It was so white, so pearly white, it was almost offsetting.

As my uncle and I approached the bustling gate, he motioned for me to put my hood up. I did so and followed him closely by so as to not attract to much attention to the collection of armor-clad guards that stood posted by the stone arches. There were too many people for the guards to pay any attention to us two casually walking in on horseback.

As I looked around the busy street, I felt a strange crushing force from just being inside the city. It was almost as offsetting as how pristine the city was; there was no way it was that well kept with the amount of people within the walls. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was as if the city was coming down on me; trying to break me. The only thing that made the sensation unbarable was that seemed to be the only one who was feeling it!

My uncle remained so calm and cool as he lead me through the city streets. People moved aside and some even stopped to watch us pass. I eyed them with a strained suspicion, but I had to level with them, if two hooded figures on horseback came riding past me, I'd be suspicious.

La Vulpe said nothing as we went over a bridge onto what appeared an island in the middle of a river that ran through the city. Themain road through was quite possibly the widest of any of the roads on the island, and that wasn't saying tallest building was almost six stories, eachstacked waywardly on top of the other. We took the second left and lead the horses up a set of stairs and to the right where there was a sad excuse for a stable posted. There we dismounted.

"Welcome, to Isula Tiberina," La Vulpe said as I dismounted and looked up to the hieght of the tall building.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"Come, nephew," he responded patting me on the shoulder and walking almost back the way we came.

On the southern side of the building was a door set off from the street. A beggar I had noticed sat near the door with his hands outstretched to the people that walked by, but when my uncle and I approached, he put his hands down and nodded subtly to us. I eyed him in confusion, but the beggar left my mind when I bumped into my uncle stood by the door looking briefly around the street then opened it quickly shooing me in.

"What was that?" I questioned with a raised voice.

"What was what?" La Vulpe asked walking down the stairs that lead down into the chamber of the building. He didn't even look at me, just ignored me.

"The beggar, this place, that look you gave the street, what is this place?" I said following him.

"Isula Tiberina, I told you that." La Vulpe replied.

"And what is that?" I demanded. "I followed you all the way to this shit hole, the least you could do is tell me why I'm here and where here is!"

"I don't want to spoil the surprise nephew," my uncle said stepping out into the brightly lit chamber.

I looked around and was amazed at the beauty I saw. The room was marble from floor to ceiling adorned in scarlet tapestries baring an almost triangular symbol, one I had seen before, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember where. There were six archways, two leading to a room that appeared to be filled with paintings, two to an armory, another to a sewer passage, and the last to a study. There were tables and a bar in the main chamber, it reminded me of the Thieve guild house in Forli: but much cleaner.

"Nephew," La Vulpe said catching my attention. "I'd like to introduce you to someone."

I looked over to find myself standing before a tall man, a very built man dressed in white. His attire was almost regal in appearance. Steel gauntlets clasped his wrists, a pauldron was bound to his right shoulder, but on his left was a sort of half cape that hung from a leather binding. His belt was a wrapping of scarlet sashes buckled by the very same symbol as the tapestries on the walls.

He was a good couple inches taller than myself, but his hieght wasn't his most distinguishable feature. His face was tanned with deep-set eyes. His dark hair was tied back, but his bangs hung loose in his face, his facial hair was full, with the exception of a scar off his right upper lip.

"Allow me to introduce, Ezio Auditore Da Firenze," my uncle announced. "Master Assassin of the Assassin Order."

I didn't respond, I didn't want to. I was terrified to say anything in front of him. I stood there just looking at him with the blankest expression, I probably looked like a fool. At least then I knew what that symbol stood for. I was in the heart of the Assassin Order, standing with the greatest of our time.

"Your uncle has spoken very highly of you," Ezio said.

"Oh," I replied glancing at my uncle.

"Don't dwell too much on it nephew," La Vulpe said. "I trust you will get along here with Ezio then?"

"What?" I stammered.

"As of today, you are joining the Assassin ranks and joining our fight," La Vulpe explained. "Here, at least, I can be in closer proximity to keep a better eye on you."

"It is ultimately your choice," Ezio put in. "It was your uncle's idea to bring you in, but the choice is yours."

"Doesn't seem like I have a choice in the matter," I finally spoke. "Wouldn't it be like I know too much?"

"One always has a choice," Ezio replied. "This life is not worth oppressing the way onto others.

Well, that was a new one. My choice, he said, my decision. I had heard rumored things about the Assassins back in Forli, barely anything that I can recall besides the warnings from the criers I so thoroughly despised. But there was some merit to the idea. The thieves' life was an unpredictable one and often times, the con out weighed the pros of membership.

"I'll be honest, I don't know what to do," I said. "What would I gain from being an Assassin?"

Ezio looked at La Vulpe, then back to me and shrugged. "That is entirely up to you. You are one that holds your own freedom above all, yes?"

I shrugged my shoulders and nodded. "I guess."

"We Assassin's fight for those like you who cannot fight for themselves. We do the dirty work, so freedom can be attained," he explained. "Do you know who it is we fight?"

I shook my head. "It will become clear in time I assume," I replied.

"La Vulpe, you didn't tell him?" Ezio asked looking back at him.

"I brought my nephew here in order to find belonging and a purpose, the rest would come in time and he would be the architect of his own desitny."

At that moment, I realized my uncle actually cared. I had known he had always cared, but I was left alone so often, it was like I had nothing to go off of beside the occasional cameo he'd make then disappear. I felt like the decision was obvious at that point, it had been for some time, but I still don't know why I waited so long to say it.

I dropped to one knee and bowed before the two Assasins before me. "I will pledge my life, my soul, and my blade to the Order of the Assassins till death take me. I will serve in what ever way I am called to do and hope to bring honor to the Order and our Creed."

"We work in the dark to serve the light, we are Assassins," La Vulpe recited. "Remember those words my nephew."

Ezio held out his arm to me. I clasped it and he pulled me up with a smile. "The liberation of the World has begun, welcome to the Brotherhood."

I nodded and said nothing; I didn't know what else to say.

"Ezio, I must return to the Thieves and check up on our progress, I leavemy nephew in your hands."

"As you wish, but I think he would be better suited with a name other than "My Nephew,'" Ezio said.

I wanted to tell Ezio that I didn't have a name, that I had forgotten it. It was a foolish notion, but I had no memory of my name. But I never got the chance.

"Lupe," my uncle replied. "His name is Lupe."

Without another word, my uncle wet up the stairs and the last thing I heard was the door closing behind him.


End file.
